


A Little Less Conversation

by magic_at_mungos



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-26 16:49:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magic_at_mungos/pseuds/magic_at_mungos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neville wants to escape England for a while and finds something he wasn’t quite expecting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Less Conversation

**Author's Note:**

> Pre-slash but everyone’s legal. Post Deathly Hallows but pre epilogue. Apologies to any Romanians if I have taken too many liberties with your country’s geography or national holidays.

Desi pushed her dark hair out of her eyes as she sorted through the storeroom shelves at the Reserve. She hated having to do the stock check and the number of people she could rely on to make sure it was done properly was getting smaller. “Bloody budget cuts,” she muttered to herself. “I’d like to see them try to do two or three people’s jobs.”

She turned round as she heard a snort of laughter at the door. Charlie was leaning against the door frame and held out a mug of tea out to her. “You do know it’s generally considered a bit loopy to be talking to yourself.”

Desi crossed the final thing off her list and then took the proffered mug. She sniffed and took a sip. “Only intelligent conversation I can get around here.” He laughed softly at her and perched on the table. 

“I have got some news for you, though. The Ministry have pulled their fingers out of their arses and found us some funding for a Herbologist. Honestly, they couldn't get laid in a brothel.” Desi grinned and he shook his head. “Bad news is that it’s only enough for some kid straight out of school that will probably get themselves killed by the end of their first week.”

She gaped at him. “Are you _serious_? What’s the fucking use in that?” Charlie shrugged and hopped down. 

“Cheer up. Interviews are next week. I survived, didn't I? You can take them under your wing.” And with that, he walked off with a hint of a swagger.

*****

Neville was incredibly nervous when the letter from the Ministry came through saying that he’d been granted an interview. His Gran had not been terribly impressed by him applying to work at the Romanian Reserve. “Why couldn't you have applied for the Scottish or Welsh reserves?” she snapped at him.

He sighed. “Gran, I just need to get away from the UK. I can’t go out without being crowded and jostled and people _pawing_ at me.” 

“What if _I_ need you? I'm not as young as I used to be.”

“You also took out a trained Auror and more than one Death Eater during the war.” She had finally pursed her lips and didn't say anything else, which Neville took to mean that he had won that particular battle. 

Neville stuffed the letter into his pocket and went out to his greenhouse. No-one else came out there since he was thirteen. It was smaller than the other greenhouses that were in the gardens but everything inside were _his_ plants that he could prune and re-pot how he wanted. It had been one of the happiest moments of his life – standing up to his Gran and winning for the first time. As he perched on his chair, a trailing vine from his favourite Flitterbloom slithered over his shoulder and wrapped itself lightly around his wrist. He stroked it absently and a small bud started to unfurl. 

He looked at the vine sternly. “Stop that. You know you shouldn't be blooming until later in the year when it’s a bit sunnier. I mean it.” Neville sighed as the vine moved to wrap around his fingers. “All right then. Just one.”

He reread the letter. The interview was on the following day and he was to Apparate to the Head Office in Diagon Alley for an interview. Chewing his lip, he recognised the names that were going to be interviewing him. They were some of the most prestigious Herbologists in Europe including Phyllida Spore, who had written **the** Herbology textbook for 11 year olds in Western Europe. Neville sighed as he started to prepare the requested clippings.

*****

Desi desperately wanted to scratch along the neckline of her dress robes. She had been pushed into sitting on the interview panel and the only set of dress robes that would be ready in time were made of the itchiest material known to wizard kind. By the time the last candidate was set to come in, Desi was about ready to kill herself. All of the candidates were either incompetent or so cocky she longed to slap it out of them.

As the door opened, a head looked round it. The head of the interview panel looked up from her papers and asked briskly “Neville Longbottom?” He nodded and sidled in through the door. Desi sat up a little straighter. Longbottom wasn't a common name and she wondered know if he was related to Algernon Longbottom, who had done some fantastic work with cross breed boarhounds in the late 1920s and early 1930s. Her daddy still had a descendent of one of Algernon’s best bitches. 

Neville looked rather nervous and was carrying a hardy looking Mullein clipping in a pot. She studied him closely and saw his ears go faintly red under her scrutiny. Despite him wearing the same formal get up as the others, she could see a line of dirt under his fingernails. That was a good sign. Some of the others looked too fond of ordering people about and would never actually get their hands dirty.

A strenuous interview followed, but Neville seemed to cope well, even though the faint blush seemed only to intensify by time and she had the impression that he was rather bedazzled by all the questions flying at him. At the end, Desi cleared her throat and asked “Are you any relation to Algernon Longbottom?” Neville looked confused and then nodded. “He’s my great-uncle. He gave me my first Mimbulus mimbletonia.” 

Desi nodded. “When you next speak to him, will you tell him that Toni Roselló can still trace our boarhounds back to Maggie?” Neville’s mouth worked as he looked a little confused by this question that had come out of left-field and then it dawned. He smiled and said “Of course. Maggie only died a few years ago. He would be pleased to hear that.”

Madam Spore shuffled her papers and gave them both a significant look. “If you've quite finished?” Desi blushed and nodded. 

“We’ll let you know by the end of the week, Mr Longbottom.”

*****

Neville was so twitchy by the time Friday came, he was jumping every time an owl arrived with an envelope. When he had knocked over his mug of tea for the third time in the space of about half an hour, his Gran said “Neville, if you can’t stop being as jumpy as a Kneazle on a hot tin roof, go outside where you won’t break any more of my china.” Neville folded a piece of toast and some bacon into a napkin and escaped outside. If he had been turned down, he wanted to find out by himself.

As he was finishing his toast, a snobby looking eagle owl swooped down and landed on the bench next to him. It proffered a leg with an envelope attached and with trembling hands Neville took the envelope and fed a rind of bacon to the owl. It hooted once in response and swooped off. 

_Dear Mr Longbottom,_

_We are pleased to offer you the position of Herbologist at the Făgăraş reserve. You will be starting in 3 weeks time. Please sign this letter to confirm acceptance._

_Attached is a list of required items._

_Yours sincerely…._

Neville gaped at the parchment and then grinned. He ran inside to tell his Gran.

*****

Desi sipped her tea. “I'm telling you, Charlie. We might have hit gold with this one. Kid looks like he might actually be worth keeping.” She looked sternly at Charlie over her mug and said “And you are to be nice to him to start. And no flirting.”

Charlie tried to look shocked and failed miserably. “I promise. It clearly didn't work with you, did it?” 

“No, because I’d heard about you. You think one smile from you can get the knickers off anyone with a pulse. No thank you. I knew where you had been.”

Charlie snorted and leant back in his chair. “So what’s he like, then? I never really met him and all I know is from Ron.” He rocked back in his chair and took the packet of the biscuits from the side. 

Desi chewed her lip as she struggled for the right words. “Quiet. He knows his stuff and I think he’ll be all right.” She shrugged. “His school records mostly say that he’s struggled a bit with his confidence until his sixth year where he started coming into his own.”

Charlie digested that last piece and then shrugged. “Sounds about right. Let’s see how he copes here.”

*****

Neville had sent most of his belongings ahead. He still didn't quite trust himself Apparating with lots of things and he hated travelling by Floo. It always made him queasy. He Apparated to a small cabane on the Transfăgărăşan and when he had caught himself from stumbling over the edge of the fireplace, he looked round and suddenly felt very out of place. The few people in the bar had stopped talking and were just looking at him. The man behind the bar was cleaning the surface with a slightly grimy cloth and he called something in Romanian to the kitchen. A small woman with dark hair came out and wiped her hands on her apron.

After she looked Neville up and down, she asked “You are Mr Longbottom?” with a strong accent. Neville nodded slightly disarmed. “Am I late?” 

She said briskly. “No, the handlers are late. My name is Anca. I will tell Charlie that he should be here.” Neville was confused as he didn't remember a Charlie from the interview and had got the impression that Ms Roselló would meet him. 

Just as Anca started to scribble a note on a piece of parchment, there was a faint pop behind him. Neville turned round to see a man standing behind him. The stocky red head grinned and stuck out a hand. “You all right? You must be Neville – Desi sent me.” Neville shook his hand and asked “Is Desi the one with the boarhounds?” He thought the man bore a resemblance to the Weasley twins and thought that this must be their elder brother. 

Charlie nodded. “Yup. She got held up in some meeting and sent me down here to escort you up to the reserve. Unfortunately new employees can’t just Apparate in.” 

Anca gave him a stern look. “Make sure you are on time when the next one comes. And tell Johnny he has to pay for the mess he made in the toilet before he’s allowed to come back.” Neville relaxed a little when he saw the back of Charlie’s neck go red at that.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I've bollocked him for that as well.” 

With a nod and a tiny smile, Anca disappeared back into the kitchen. Charlie looked at Neville’s rucksack and asked, “Was everything else sent ahead?” 

He nodded and said a little sheepishly, “I’d Splinch myself otherwise.” Charlie laughed as he said that. 

“Can’t have that. We can’t afford to replace you just yet.” He pulled out a creased picture from his jeans pocket and showed it to Neville. “That’s where we going. Aim for just outside the lodge and you’ll be all right.” He disappeared with a pop. 

Moments later, Neville appeared outside a small building that looked it was made out of earth and sod. Without thinking, he reached out to touch it and felt the rough material on the outside. He jumped when he heard Charlie say “The outside is stucco -lime, sand and water. It’s safer in case one of the dragons is going on a bit of a rampage. We had too many buildings burn down, even with fire proofing.” 

He cocked his head towards a series of smaller buildings. “I’ll show you to your room. Desi wants you under her nose for the time being. Something about keeping you out of trouble.”

Neville lifted up his bag and followed him, listening to the occasional distant roar and longing to get his hands dirty.

*****

Over the coming weeks, Neville slowly settled in. Most of the people who worked on the reserve were a little rough round the edges but seemed to live to the maxim of “work hard, play hard”. Desi seemed to protect him from the worst of the piss taking and Charlie bought him into his circle of friends. He seemed to know _everyone_ and Neville was sure that it would have taken ages to get to know people if it wasn't for Charlie.

December came round quickly and Neville was confused on December 1st as only basic chores were done. On being asked at breakfast, Desi told him, “It’s the Grand Union Day. I forget the Romanian for it but that’s the translation. We've got so many half bloods and Muggle borns living here that we have the day off.”

She sipped her tea and poked at her porridge. “There’s a firework display nearby but you can see it better up here. We normally have a bonfire out in one of the fields – do you want come along.” 

Neville smiled “As long as the fire doesn't ruin any of my plants, then I’ll come.” 

She snorted with laughter. “Well, you best show Charlie where they can build it then. He wouldn't know his arse from his elbow when it comes to your plants.” She turned and whistled at Charlie, who was sitting at one of the far tables. When he looked up, Desi waved him over and told him “Neville’s going to come out with you after breakfast to make sure you don’t burn any of his plants.”

Charlie looked Neville up and down and then shrugged. “Fine. But if it comes down to a choice between your plants and my dragons, you and me are going to fall out.” 

Neville turned faintly pink and managed to say, “Well, it won’t come to that.” Charlie nodded at them and then jogged back to his table.

*****

Neville was quite enjoying the celebrations. Charlie and him had _not_ fallen out and he watched Charlie telling off-colour jokes. His stomach fluttered a little as Charlie grinned at him from across the fire. He’d been here long enough too find out about Charlie’s reputation and he was definitely the type that mothers warned you about.

Neville stood up and stumbled slightly as he headed for the drinks table. Adelice, a lithe pureblood from Brittany, had brewed some lethal chouchen and it had gone straight to his head. He hadn't been quite sure whether to believe her when Adelice had told him that it was an elfin drink that had crossed over to the wizarding community, as she had a tendency to make things up for shits and giggles.

He steadied himself on the table and took a deep breath of the cool air. He jumped a mile when a voice said behind him, “Can I top you up?” Neville turned round to see Charlie standing there with a bottle in one hand. 

“For crying out loud. Don’t you make _noises_ when you move? Or am I just too drunk to notice?”

Charlie looked amused. “I wasn't particularly quiet. Maybe you were just day dreaming?” He stepped closer and held Neville’s mug steady as he poured more chouchen into it. Hand brushed against hand and as soon as his mug was full, Neville jerked his hand away. 

Charlie raised an eyebrow. “Something I said?”

Neville said hastily, “No, of course not. It’s just that people might get the wrong idea if they thought they saw you holding my hand.”

“I can hold a lot more than that, if you like.” 

Neville flushed bright red at the comment. “I’ll tell Desi of you.” He realised how childish he sounded and his voice trailed off, but Charlie looked amused. 

“Desi despairs of me. Plus, she’s already warned me off you.” A note of pride managed to creep into his voice. “I think three months of keeping my hands to myself is quite enough.”

Neville realised that he probably looked a bit like a fish at this point, having been struck speechless. Before he could gather his thoughts, Charlie lent in and kissed him before walking off. Neville stared at his retreating back and then scuttled back to his seat. 

*****

 

The firework display was spectacular and slowly people were drifting off to bed Neville wondered how many chose someone else’s bed over their own. He still hadn't become accustomed to the very relaxed ideas towards sex at the reserve. Chewing his lip, he wondered whether it was because he had grown up with his Gran and the fact she had very particular ideas about propriety or whether he was just naturally a prude. 

He was getting a little cold and stood up to go to bed. He really didn't want to be tired **and** hungover tomorrow and when Charlie came and sat next to him. Neville eyed him warily - “Someone turn you down?”

Charlie pushed his hair out of his eyes. “I haven’t asked him yet.” 

_Oh._ Neville struggled to find something to say and before he could reconsider, he blurted out “But I'm not gay.”

Charlie looked amused at that. “It is possible to like both, you know.” 

Neville was finding it difficult to look at Charlie and concentrated on his hands. The silence became deafening and he looked up shyly. 

“I know,” he said quietly. He floundered a little for words and then continued. “It’s hard to think that it’s not wrong.”

Charlie leant forward and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You've met my mum, right? I think your gran comes from the same school.” 

He stood up and dusted himself off. “When you’re ready, I’ll be around.” Charlie held out a hand and pulled Neville to his feet.

*****

Over the next few weeks, Neville liked the almost courting that Charlie was doing. Nothing obvious or weird, just small things like saving a seat for him at dinner or a packet of seeds left by his plate.

On St. Ignat's Day, Neville approached Charlie after the celebrations when everyone was too busy or too drunk to notice. “Are you still interested?”

Charlie’s face was still a little flushed from the heat from the fire and he turned to look at Neville, the shadows making it difficult to read his expression. After a long moment, he leant forward and kissed Neville hard.

When the kiss broke, he asked softly, “That answer your question?”

Neville grinned at him and nodded. “Come to my room. It’s quieter.” Charlie slung an arm round his shoulders and they quietly left.


End file.
